


Technoblade Never Die Hards

by Aloevea



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: An attempt to make fanfiction about block men using the plot of an action movie, Blood, Both Techno and Tommy are John McClane, Climbing through an elevator shaft barefoot, DadSchlatt, Die Hard References, Gen, Happy Ending, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Somehow, Starring Niki as Argyle, That's what, The rating will change as we get to the bloody parts, YES THERES DADSCHLATT IN THIS DIE HARD-BASED FANFICTION, because less people are trying to kill techno, but then again, guess what?, idk if the villains dying counts as angst but fair warning there will be death in this, like it's supposed to be a happy thing that they're dying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28698258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aloevea/pseuds/Aloevea
Summary: Technoblade Minecraft has just arrived in Los Angeles to spend the Christmas holiday with his family. But as Techno waits for his brother's office party to break up, terrorists take control of the building. When the terrorist leader, Dream, and his henchmen round up hostages, Techno slips away unnoticed. Armed with only a service revolver and his own cunning, Techno launches his own attack.(It's a bit more complicated than that, what with Tommy raccoon-ing in Nakatomi Plaza, but I thought it'd be cool to substitute the summary on the back of the DVD. )(None of the Sleepy Bois die, don't worry)
Relationships: Niki | Nihachu & Technoblade, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 71
Kudos: 181





	1. In Which Technoblade Travels In A Plane And Also A Limo

Technoblade E. Minecraft (or as his friends called him, Techno) was on a plane headed from New York to LA for the holidays and was not happy about it in the slightest.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be going to LA, no, Techno was excited to see his family for the first time in six months- but planes had always given him anxiety, which was ironic considering how many times he’d flown throughout his childhood. That, and the fact that all of the plane’s occupants seemed to be dead-set on making his flight as miserable as possible.

The man sitting next to Techno was rattling off different ‘tips and tricks’ he’d learned online about flying. Maybe some of them were useful, but Techno really didn’t care. All he wanted was that guy (and the woman noisily crunching potato chips in the aisle over, and the screaming baby a few rows back) to shut up so he could get some sleep.

It didn’t help that they all reminded him in some way of Tommy. He needed sleep in the first place so he wouldn’t dropkick his little brother off the roof. So Techno tuned out the distractions, placed his book on his head, and leaned back for the rest of the flight.

\-----

Six hours later, Techno was wide awake and gripping the armrests of his chair as right as he could while the plane taxied to its gate.

“You don’t like flying, do you?” his neighbor said in what Techno assumed they found a friendly, relaxing tone (Techno personally couldn’t stand it). 

“No, no, where’d you get that idea?” Techno gritted out sarcastically.

“Ya wanna know the secret of successful air travel? After you get where you're going, ya take off your shoes and socks. Then ya walk around on the rug barefoot and make fists with your toes.”

“Fists with your toes?”

“Maybe it’s not a fist when it’s your toes. I mean like this- work out the time zone tension,” the man demonstrated. “Better than a cup of coffee and a hot shower for the old jet lag, but trust me. I’ve been doing this for nine years.”

As the plane came to a stop, passengers started to get up to get their overhead luggage, including Techno. As he pulled down his suitcase, he glanced over at the man, who was now talking enthusiastically to an older woman about airline heating and cooling systems.

\-----

Waiting at the departure doors was a short girl with dyed pink hair holding a sign with Techno’s name on it who introduced herself as Niki Nihachu, the limo driver (Techno didn’t understand why Wil’s company had sent a limo for him, he was just one person after all).

“So, uh,” Techno said awkwardly to Niki as they got in. “You got any plans for Christmas? Seeing family, or whatnot?”

Niki nodded. “My girlfriend, Puffy. I’ll see her later tonight or tomorrow morning, depending on how long her family dinner takes. What about you? They must be important if Nakatomi sent the whole,” Niki waved around at the inside of the limo, “This to come and get you.”

“My twin brother is Wilbur Soot.”

“Wow. Important.”

“Maybe now that he’s vice president of this branch of the Nakatomi Corporation and responsible for so many great marketing strategies, highest stock since ever, blah blah blah.”

“It sounds like you and he don’t get along that well.”

“We usually do, but...last spring he and I got into a huge fight over politics and didn’t talk for months. We only just got back in contact with each other in time for me to book a flight to LA.”

“Politics do that, yeah.”

The rest of the drive was spent in comfortable silence. Like Techno, Niki seemed to be a bit introverted, and she had good taste in music (and some kind of supernatural sense of where to turn the radio dial). 

As they pulled up outside of Nakatomi Plaza, the pair got out.

“So, you go upstairs to the party, your brother sees you, you run into each other’s arms. Music plays, you live happily ever after?” Niki said, grinning as she liberated Techno’s suitcase from the trunk.

Techno stared up at the shiny, slightly foreboding building and sighed. “Corny, but sounds a lot like Wilbur.”

“What if it doesn’t work out? Do you have someplace to stay?”

“My dad’s place. It’s a while away from here, but I can walk.”

Niki placed the suitcase next to Techno. “Tell you what. I’ll pull into the parking garage and wait. If it works out with your brother, give me a call on the car phone and I’ll drop your bags off inside at the desk. If something bad happens, I’ll give you a ride to your dad’s place.” Niki handed Techno a card with the car phone number written on it.

Techno smiled and took the card. “Thanks, Niki.”

“Just remember that when you sign for the tip!” Niki pointed at the building. “They’re paying for it, so don’t be shy.” She gave him a thumbs up and drove away. Techno took a deep breath and entered the lobby.

Nakatomi Plaza was brand-new, with sparkling floors, a welcoming waiting room, and all of the latest technology poured into their security systems. The lobby was also totally empty, bar one security guard sitting at the entrance desk and playing something that from a distance looked like a cross between Tetris and solitaire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not perfect but that's because I wrote it at midnight on my dad's old typewriter and I would say I'm pretty good at typewriter-ing if not for the fact I have evidence of me spelling "carry-on baggage" as "crryonn baggabe.a" so no


	2. In Which Tommy Has An Idea And Gets Stuck In An Elevator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (in which the story stops being exactly like the movie. Also Tommy's here now)

About thirty minutes earlier at Phil’s house, Tommy was incredibly upset.

‘You’ll see Techno in the morning,’ Phil had said. ‘It’s not a party, you won’t be missing out on anything.’

“Bullshit,” Tommy grumbled into the phone to Tubbo. “There’s no way they won’t have fun. I’ve been to one of their celebrations before, there’s no way any of them are getting out of there without enjoying themselves at least a little.”

“They’ll be back soon,” Tubbo said consolingly. “And hey! You’re all alone. Nobody to stop you from getting into trouble.”

“It’s just not the same, Big Man. It’ll never be the same.”

“Just go yourself then.” There was a faint sound of crunching from over the phone.

“Yeah but how? It’s not like I have a fucking car. What are you eating?”

“Monster Munch in a bowl. And just take public transportation.”

“What, like a bus and shit?”

“Exactly. A car, but more portable.”

More crunching noises. Tommy hesitated. “That...is actually a good idea. I might even get there before Phil.”

“I think there’s traffic on the route he’s taking!” Tubbo said cheerfully. “If you leave now, you’ll get far enough that even if they catch you, they won’t be able to send you back.”

“How will I stay in contact with you? You know how clingy you get sometimes.”

“I dunno, take Wilbur’s radio transmitter. The really long-distance one he got a few years ago.”

\-----

Tubbo’s advice had been surprisingly good. It had taken less than half an hour to get to Nakatomi Plaza- and according to Tubbo’s calculations, Phil was still on his way over, leaving plenty of time for Tommy to get to Wilbur and Techno.

Tommy sauntered cheerfully into the lobby, saluting the guard as he passed. Most people might not have been able to get through that easily, but Tommy still had a guest pass from the last time he’d visited Wilbur at work.

As he entered the elevator and pushed the twentieth floor- no, the thirtieth floor, Tommy always forgot- a black car pulled up outside of the building. Tommy didn’t get to see who it was before the doors shut, but it wasn’t Phil, so he didn’t really care.

Because of his mistake with the buttons, the elevator should’ve stopped a little ways below where Wilbur’s office really was. But surely this was too soon, right? And the doors weren’t opening, even though the elevator had stopped.

“Tubbo?” Tommy said carefully into his transmitter. “Tubbo, the doors aren’t opening. I don’t think this is what’s supposed to happen in an elevator...”

“It’s not? Are you sure you’re on your floor? It does take a while to go up all twenty, wait, thirty floors.” Tubbo’s voice hissed with static.

“I’m sure...I don’t have the swoopy feeling in my stomach anymore. We’re at a complete standstill.”

“Try pressing the open door button. Maybe it’s not automatic.”

Tommy tried it. The doors stayed shut. “Nope. I’m still in here.”

“Is there something you can use to pry the doors open a little? Like a crowbar or something?” Tubbo sounded worried. Admittedly, Tommy was too, not that he’d ever say that out loud.

He looked around. The elevator was empty except for a fake plant sitting sadly in the corner. Tommy said so.

“Ah...well...look behind it and in your pockets. Did you bring a knife?”

“What? No, why the fuck would I have brought a knife?”

“It seems like the kind of thing you’d bring.”

Tommy snorted and dug through his pockets (and the pockets of Wilbur’s old trench coat that he’d brought to keep himself warm). They were empty but upon further inspection, there was a hammer wedged between the sad plant and the elevator wall.

He looked at the hammer quizically. “What am I supposed to do with this, fucking...bang it on the doors and hope somebody up there hears me?”

“No, no,” Tubbo said, the relief in his voice evident even over the terrible audio of the radio transmitter. “Use the pointy bit- you know, the side you use for pulling out nails- and wedge it into the doors. Then you can pull them open and see if you’re close enough to a floor to pull yourself into it.”

“Are you kidding me? I’ll never be able to pull these open. You know how weak my arms are.”

“Literally our only other option is calling Phil and trying to explain how you somehow got yourself stuck in an elevator five miles away from the building where you’re actually supposed to be. So I would recommend trying it.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, forgetting Tubbo couldn’t see him. But his friend was right, there was no other option. So he pushed the hammer into the crack between the doors and pulled as hard as he could.

It moved! Somehow, with all of the force of Tommy’s weak noodle arms, the elevator doors had moved open.

“Great! Now, stop pulling,” Tubbo exclaimed. “Can you see another set of doors?”

“Yeah, kind of. They’re at the very bottom, though. I don’t know if I could fit through that gap even if both pairs of doors were wide open, which they’re not.”

“Can you try?”

“Of course I can! Tommyinnit never gives up, you know. I’m going to get through this or die trying.”

“Please don’t,” Tubbo said nervously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't do this in real life, kids.  
> Also, I should add: what happens to Tommy is genuinely just elevator failure- nobody's cut the power yet, and none of the elevators have been severed. That comes later  
> (and the next chapter will take a bit longer because it switches back to Techno POV and also the original Die Hard plot)


	3. In Which Jared Is An Asshole With A Gun And Wilbur Is Tired

The elevator doors opened with a ding, revealing a mass of definitely tipsy office workers. It was extremely disorienting, especially for Techno who had never been there before even when it was a normal day.

Weaving his way through partygoers, Techno made his way over to someone who seemed to know where he was.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for-”

“Wilbur Soot?”

“I...yeah. How’d you know?” Techno rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I’ve spent half my life on airplanes. I can recognize someone who just got off of one,” the man extended his hand. Techno shook it warily. “I’m Jack Manifold, Mr. Minecraft. I have...something...to do with this company.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Jack Manifold smiled, then beckoned for Techno to follow him over to a door with a plaque on the front reading ‘Wilbur Soot.’

“This is Wilbur’s office. He, ah...” Jack Manifold looked around at the crowd of people, scanning it for Wilbur’s face. “I’m pretty sure he went to go fax some documents. He should be back any minute now.”

Techno thanked him. As the other man walked off, he entered the office to find someone reclining with their feet kicked up on his desk- someone who was decidedly not his twin brother.

“Who-” Techno looked around. “What are you doing here?”

The man looked up in surprise- he obviously hadn’t noticed Techno come in. “Ah...hi...I just had to make a quick call, and this was the nearest phone.”

Techno raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on the office’s obvious lack of a phone, and set his suitcase down carefully by one of the chairs. The man looked at him.

“Say, who are you?” he said accusingly.

Techno crossed his arms. “I’m Wilbur’s twin brother. Why, who are you?” 

The man scoffed. “Twin brother? Wil never mentioned a twin brother to me. And that’s the kind of thing that you tell your best friend! Who are you really?”

“Best friend?” Techno didn’t think his eyebrows could head any further up his face.

“That’s right. And you never answered my question.”

“You never answered mine.”

Just then, Wilbur pushed the door open and staggered into the office, not noticing either of the men standing there staring at him.

“When will this fucking day be over,” he murmured into his palms, collapsing into a chair at the other end of the room.

Techno cleared his throat and Wilbur’s head snapped up. “Techno? You-”

“Wilbur! This random guy broke into your office claiming to be your brother!” the man sitting at Wilbur’s desk whined. “I think he might be a criminal or something.”

Wilbur inhaled deeply. “I’m not awake enough for this...Jared, this is Technoblade. Yes, he is my brother. Techno, this is Jared, my coworker. Don’t trust a single word that comes out of his mouth. You have full permission to kick him out of a window.”

“Aw, Wil, you don’t mean that,” Jared laughed. “You love me.”

“I really do not. I’m going to get a drink now- Techno, stay here. Jared- get the fuck out of my office.”

“Wait, Wilbur, is there a place I can wash up?” Techno broke in.

Wilbur gestured to another door, presumably leading to a washroom. “In there.”

\---

Techno stared intently at the mirror, trying to will his roots to dye themselves pink- he’d completely forgotten to bring hair dye. It didn’t really matter, Phil probably had some leftover from the last time Techno had stayed there, but it annoyed him anyway.

There was a soft noise behind him. Wilbur had entered the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the sink.

“So, um,” Wilbur said awkwardly, fiddling with a bit of paper. “Look, I-” He stopped. Techno turned to look at him. “What was that?”

Wilbur glared. “I’m trying to apologize, ok? Shut up. Oh, god, I sound like Tommy, don’t I.”

“Yes, you do. Go on.”

“Techno, I...” Wilbur took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for insulting your political views. You know how I get about politics, but I shouldn’t have said that stuff. Or called your article a bunch of anarchistic propaganda.”

“Apology accepted. Just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” Wilbur said with relief.

There was a comfortable silence. Techno smiled slightly. It’d been a while since he and Wilbur had just sat like this- no noisy, joking Tommy, no political arguments, no upcoming articles or big work deals coming up. Just two brothers, spending time toge-

“Motherfucker!” Wilbur shouted without warning. Techno jumped at the sudden noise.

“What is it?”

“Jared...he left his gun in here. What exactly am I supposed to do with that, walk out into the party waving it around for him to come get?”

“He has a gun? At work?”

“Yeah. And he carries it around with him, too. I think there’s another inside his desk. Fucking Americans- all I have in my desk is a portable radio. Not the one I got a couple years ago- a better one.”

“What was wrong with that one?”

“You could listen to different broadcasts- police shit and whatnot- but not make one yourself to any other device except its twin. Also Tommy kept stealing it.”

Somebody poked their head into the bathroom. “Ah, Wilbur? Jack Manifold’s getting everyone together. Something about a toast.” 

“Got it. Thanks, Fundy.” Fundy nodded and left. Wilbur turned to his brother. “I have to go rally the troops- make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in a bit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am aware that John McClane (the hero of the action movie this is based on) is supposed to be an NYC cop. But given the current political climate (and Techno’s character in general) I decided against it. Introducing Technoblade the journalist, most famous for his articles on anarchist groups in Central Europe (and investigations into the ancient civilization known as the Antarctic Empire).


	4. In Which There Are Uninvited Guests

As Tommy was prying the second elevator door open, and Jack Manifold was finishing up the second paragraph of his speech, a car pulled up outside Nakatomi Plaza and two men got out.5

The first was short, with brown hair, wearing a red-and-white striped button-down shirt and round white goggles. He was talking animatedly about something called “manhunt tactics''. The second was slightly taller, with black hair held back by a white headband, wearing a hoodie with a red flame pattern on the front. He was listening intently to what the other was saying.

As the two entered the building, the guard looked up. The taller one looked him dead in the eyes, pulled out his gun, and shot him in the forehead.

“Yes!” The shorter cheered. “Go Sapnap! One down, one and a security system to go.”

Sapnap grinned and walked around the corner, where a second security guard was waiting by the elevators- he hadn’t heard the shot due to the loud music playing in his headphones. Sapnap kneeled down, covered his eyes, and rolled out a small, bottle-cap-shaped disk over to where the guard was standing. After a few seconds, there was a small bang and a burst of smoke- in the confusion, Sapnap leaped around the corner and shot him as well.

“George!” He called, “I got him. Has the security been breached yet? Dream and the others should be in the garage by now.”

“Done by cameras, nearly there with the rest,” George shouted. “Don’t get the elevators until you’re all upstairs.”

\---

Meanwhile, a truck was parking in the garage, not fifty feet from where Niki sat oblivious, listening to music. Seconds later, heavy metal gates slammed over the entrance to the garage. As if on cue, the back of the truck opened and someone got out- a tall blonde someone wearing a suit with a smiley face pin over the lapel, and a dark green trench coat. Following him were about six others, including the driver, such as someone wearing a blue scarf that shimmered as if made of diamonds and someone with literal cat whiskers drawn on his face.

Even though most of the group was wearing strange, even eccentric outfits, they gave off an aura of danger. If there had been anybody alive other than the partygoers upstairs (and, unbeknownst to anyone, Niki and Tommy), they would have run as fast as they could in the opposite direction. This was helped by the fact that for once, no vaguely Christmas-themed elevator music played on their way from the garage to the first floor where Sapnap and George were waiting (and that they were all holding machine guns).

“Dream!” George called to the man in green. “Outside access to security hams has been disabled, and so have the exits. Sap got the two goons down here...if your information is correct, there shouldn’t be any more of them in the whole building.”

Dream laughed. “It’s not like it’s any secret that security guards go home on Christmas eve, Georgie.” He turned to Sapnap. “Let’s head up. George, you stay here and monitor the cameras to make sure nobody else comes in. I assume the elevators still work?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Now let’s head up...parties are no fun unless someone crashes them, after all.”

\---

Thirty or so seconds later, they exited the elevator onto the thirtieth floor. Even though they were a group of armed men, their presence went unnoticed amidst the crowd of people...until Dream signaled with his hand, two of them stepped into the midst of the party and fired their weapons at the ceiling.

\---

Tommy lay on the floor, dizzy with relief and happiness. Phil wouldn’t need to be called after all! He could take the stairs up to the party- everything would be fine. He wasn’t stuck in an elevator anymore.

“Thank goodness, I was-” Tubbo said over the radio, then broke off.

“Tubbo? Big T?” Tommy frowned. “You still there?”

“...Yeah, I’m here. Sorry, Dad and Quackity just got back. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Don’t get stuck in any more elevators.”

“I won’t. Tell Schlatt and Big Q hi!”

“I will! And BRING THE HAMMER IN CASE YOU GET STUCK AGAIN.”

Tommy grinned, shaking his head, and propped himself up against the wall. This was-

A gunshot, some floors below him. Tommy froze. What was- no, it couldn’t be the noise of a gun, everybody was upstairs at the party, and the guards would never just fire like that.

A muffled bang, then another gunshot. There was no mistaking it this time, that was definitely a gun. Tommy launched to his feet. Why did these things always happen to him? Why couldn’t it be someone else, just once?

A voice that sounded a bit like Technoblade ran through his head. _Tommy! Hide!_

Shelter. Even if he wasn’t in danger at the moment, it could never hurt. But where?

_Not under a desk or table. That would be the first place someone would check._

So where? He wasn’t at home, and there were no closets or cupboards to hide in. he had to go to-

_-most schools, apartment buildings, and offices have-_

Ventilation shafts. He had to find a grate big enough to climb into. There was no guarantee people were actively seeking him out, it could never hurt.

Tommy bolted down the hallway, grabbing the hammer and radio. Oh, god, why did Tubbo have to have this bad timing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Along with Sapnap and George, Dream's people are Skeppy, Baboyhalo, Antfrost, Callahan, Awesamdude, and Punz.


	5. In Which Wilbur Is Fed Up With Life (And Not For The Last Time This Night, Either)

When the thirtieth flood erupted in gunfire and screams, Techno’s first instinct was to grab his camera and start taking pictures.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have a camera with him- and he wasn’t reporting on anarchist groups in central Europe anymore, he was at a Christmas party. And there were people with guns out there who most likely don’t have the friendliest of intentions.

His second instinct was to find a weapon. The closest one on hand was Jared’s handgun, so Techno grabbed that and peeked out into the hallway.

It was chaos. People were screaming and running around, Techno couldn’t even pick out Wilbur in the crowd. The people who had been shooting were a collection of oddly-dressed men with guns, seemingly led by a man wearing a green trench coat. Techno got very bad vibes from him.

Two of the terrorists (terrorists? Were they terrorists? Techno thought it was very likely. After all, who else does something like this?) had split off from the group and begun to search the offices, pulling frightened employees out into the central area and shooting off warnings for those who resisted.

Techno scrambled down the hallway in the opposite direction from where the hostages were being held, ducking behind a large plant seconds before one of the armed men checked the room he’d been in. They were still moving fast, however- where could he hide?

If he were to attack, to try to overwhelm them, he’d be dead within seconds. That much was clear. They had better guns and more people.

Slowly backing away from them, Techno glanced behind him- there was a stairwell entrance a couple of feet away. Should he risk it?

Five seconds later, Techno was running as fast as he could away from the party.

\---

Wilbur stood nervously between Fundy and Jack Manifold, watching the guards that surrounded them out of the corner of his eyes.

When the shooting had first started, everyone had panicked. People had run around screaming their heads off (or, alternatively, curled up in a ball on the floor and started sobbing). Somebody had pulled the fire alarm, but it hadn’t been of any use. Even if somebody did come around to investigate, Wilbur was very sure that these people would be able to get rid of them. After a few minutes of gunfire and panic, the men had rounded everybody up out of wherever they had been hiding, or where anybody had been before the shooting started, and the thirty or forty office workers who had attended the party were now standing in awkward clusters around the fountain in the center of the room, either staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows or, like Wilbur, at the imposters- and the man in a suit, who seemed to be their leader- and waiting for somebody to say something.

The man cleared his throat, waited patiently for the people below him to turn their eyes to him, and began reading from a small leather-bound book he was holding…

“Ladies and gentlemen, due to the Nakatomi Corporation's legacy of greed around the globe, it is about to be taught a lesson on real power. You...will be witnesses. If our demands are not met, however…” he shut the book with a tap. “...You may become participants instead. Now! Jack Manifold?”

There was complete and utter silence. Nobody moved.

 _‘Twas the night before Christmas,_ Wilbur thought giddily. _‘Twas the night before Christmas, and not a creature was stirring-_

But a creature was stirring, because the green man had stepped down the stairs and into the crowd of people.

“Jack Manifold?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADJSAFDBDSFJH IM SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING THE BURNOUT HIT ME HARD AND I ALSO HAD EXAMS THIS WEEK  
> But then I saw this had nearly ninety kudos (holy shit I did not expect that) and so here's a short chapter, hopefully I'll have motivation tonight


	6. In Which Jack Manifold Fucking Dies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: death (not very graphic)

Techno scurried through the thirtieth floor, between two metal pillars and a circular saw. This part of the Plaza was still under construction- it was a brand-new building, and most of it was barely less than a frame with walls, windows, and a floor.

While it was very unlikely that whoever those men were would check here, Techno couldn’t take any chances. He had to get to another floor, instead.

Using an elevator was too dangerous, of course. If anyone were to press for the particular elevator on a different floor, he’d be facing the wrong end of a gun in seconds. He’d have to take the stairs.

Pushing the emergency stair door open carefully, Techno readied the gun and crept carefully up a flight and a half. As he reached the thirty-second floor, he heard voices shouting to each other.

“Careful with this! Come on, move it, we don’t-”

Techno slid the door open a half-inch and peered cautiously out, positioning himself in such a way as not to be seen.

Three or four of the guys from earlier (although these ones looked different, there were probably more than he’d initially seen) were pushing a large, heavy cart covered loosely with a blanket down the hallway. One side of the blanket was hitched up, and under it, Techno could read words.

_Danger- Explosive- Handle With Caution_

And then the men and the cart were gone, and Techno was left along, frozen with the door still slightly ajar. Danger, explosive? Did these guys have bombs? It wasn’t like this was the first time Techno’d been faced with people willing to blow up buildings or sometimes even countries, ~~hell, Techno felt like blowing up a country every now and then,~~ but as a journalist, it usually wasn’t him specifically who was being threatened with that kind of thing. Guns, sure, but a bomb?

Nevermind that. He was still in more immediate danger, Techno had to get away.

Techno shut the door, again taking care not to make a sound. If one of the people who’d just passed heard the door close, he’d be dead.

Backing away slowly, Techno raised the gun again, then turned around sharply and rushed up another floor.

As he pushed this door open as well, Techno heard voices from somewhere outside of the room he’d emerged into.

_I probably shouldn’t check that out. But then again, maybe they’re talking about blowing the building up?_

_No, it’s way too dangerous. I could get killed._

_It’s definitely important! There might be some crucial information being spilled over there!_

He continued this internal conflict for several more seconds, all while keeping his ears peeled for anything more than a distant murmur. Eventually, however, his journalist instincts won out. It couldn’t hurt to get just a bit closer, right?

\---

Dream smiled chillingly at Jack Manifold from across the elevator. His eyes seemed to bore into the other, stripping back the layers of calm and courage he’d built up over the years, leaving him as he was years ago when all had been was a broke intern at the small company that would become Nakatomi Corporation, just trying to get by.

“It’s a nice suit.”

Jack Manifold started, having been caught up in his thoughts. “Sorry?”

“Your suit. It’s nice. I have three myself.”

The elevator doors opened with a soft ding, revealing a large, bright room filled with beautiful furniture, expensive-looking vases, and perfectly trimmed plants.

Dream clasped his hands together as he exited the elevator. “And when Alexander saw his domain he wept, for there were no more worlds to conquer...”

He strode over to a large model of a bridge. “Oh, that’s beautiful. You know, I used to make models when I was younger.” he ran a hand gently over it. “The precision, the attention to detail...”

Jack Manifold narrowed his eyes. “So that’s what this is about? Our project in Snowchester? Contrary to what you people think, we’re developing that region, not exploiting it.”

The blonde grinned even wider. “Oh, I believe you. I read the article in Forbes.” He left the table and walked over to a glass door, sliding it smoothly open. “In here, Mr. Manifold. My associate had some questions for you. Some...fill-in-the-blanks questions, if you will.”

\---

Techno dropped to his stomach and readied the gun the second he saw the men standing around the model.

One of them was Jack Manifold. The second was standing slightly to the side- the one wearing a white bandanna. The third had on a green trench coat. Sitting at a table in the next room over was someone wearing goggles on his forehead.

The green man pushed a sliding food open and gestured to the others. Jack Manifold entered first, and then the other two- Techno thanked his lucky stars individually and by name that one of them remembered to close the door.

Techno inched forward on his stomach, being careful to stay out of sight. From his position crouched behind the table that held the model, he could see the back of Jack Manifold’s head. The other three were facing him, but thankfully at such an angle that even if they looked down through the glass door they wouldn’t be able to see him.

\---

“You want access to our computers?” Jack Manifold looked at the men facing him in astonishment. “I don’t have that code! And even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. When they wake up in Tokyo they’ll just change anything you get ahold of. You won’t be able to blackmail our executives-”

“Mr. Manifold, be quiet,” Dream said sharply. “I am not interested in your computers.” He exchanged glances with Sapnap and George. “I am, however, interested in the 640 million dollars in negotiable bearer bonds stored in your vault. And the computers...control the vault.”

“You want money?” Jack Manifold’s fingers drummed anxiously on the table. “What kind of terrorists are you?”

“Whoever said we were terrorists?”

“There are seven vault safeguards, the code opens only one,” Jack Manifold panted. He was beginning to get nervous, even more so than before.

“I told you,” George muttered under his breath to Sapnap, who was standing behind the shorter’s chair.

Sapnap crossed his arms menacingly. “It’s not over yet.”

Dream stared at Jack Manifold for several seconds. “It really is a very nice suit, Mr. Manifold. It would be a shame to ruin it.”

There was no response.

Dream pulled a gun out of his jacket and laid it carefully on the table. Jack Manifold eyed it cautiously but still said nothing.

“I am going to count to three,” Dream began after another pause. Jack Manifold’s eyes snapped from the gun to him. “There will not be a four. You are going to tell me what the code is.”

A bead of sweat ran down Jack Manifold’s forehead.

“One....two...three.”

“I don’t know it, I’m telling you!” Jack Manifold pleaded. “I don’t know it! You’re just going to have to kill me!”

Dream looked at him closely, then picked up the gun. “Okay.”

\---

Technoblade stared, wide-eyed, as the gun went off and blood splattered across the glass in front of him.

Jack Manifold was really dead. Techno had only known him for about an hour, but his loss was still devastating.

Not just that, but this proved something. It proved that these terrorists- these _murderers_ \- were willing to kill innocent people. He was in terrible danger, and so was Wilbur and all of the people downstairs.

And although Techno didn’t know it yet, so was the tall blonde boy sitting in a vent just below his feet, paralyzed with fear after he’d heard the shot and the sickening sound of a bullet passing through someone’s skull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for being late :(  
> But this chapter is like,,, three hundred words longer than most of the other ones have been so hopefully it's worth it  
> ALSO! WE HIT 100 KUDOS! POG  
> When I first saw, it was at 101 and my first thought was "oh, good. I can finally achieve my dream. Now all I have to do is skin the kudos and turn them into a coat"


	7. In Which A Bomb Is Heavily Implied (Shhh)

Dream stared amusedly down at the body, rubbing lightly on his thumb with his pointer finger where a stray drop of blood had landed. Behind him, Sapnap grumbled under his breath as he handed a thin stack of bills to George, who was grinning like the cat who’d got the cream (the two of them had a bet going on whether or not Manifold would give the code. George had won fifty bucks).

“Well, that was...unfortunate,” Dream smirked. “Now- George, get to work on the vault. Sap, dispose of the body. Dried blood isn’t the easiest to-”

Suddenly, there was a sharp noise- like a thud or crack- from the room over. The three men’s heads all turned towards its source (Jack Manifold, of course, did nothing. Dead people generally do not move). Pushing himself up off the table, Sapnap ran over to check underneath the table, as well as the door that led to the emergency stairs.

“Nothing,” he called back.

Dream turned to George. “Now...you _can_ break the code?”

George smiled. “You didn’t bring me along for my charming personality.”

\---

Technoblade held one hand over his mouth to prevent from breathing too heavily, his pupils blown wide with fear. In his haste to get away from the others, he’d banged the gun against the underside of the table. The one man who’d come over to check out the noise had luckily neglected to investigate the supply closet opposite the elevator- fortunately, all three of the men had gone down to lower floors, and now Techno was standing stiffly in the cramped area, the back of his leg pressed uncomfortably against a vacuum cleaner. Unfortunately, this left the pink-haired man all alone with his thoughts.

He hadn’t heard the whole conversation, but there was something about a code? His memory was usually exemplary, but Jack Manifold’s loss had shaken him in a way that death didn’t normally do. His pulse thudded in his ears. Why was this any different? He’d seen blood and bodies before. He’d even killed, when necessary.

_Pull yourself together, Techno._

_E!_

_Why didn’t you stop him?!_

_‘Cause you’d be dead too, idiot!_

After about five minutes, his head had cleared enough for him to walk cautiously out of the closet.

It hadn’t been the death that startled him, he’d realized. That kind of thing had never really affected Techno- just one more person gone. But Jack Manifold had been a good man (or at least, Techno assumed. The two had only talked for a few minutes. But Wilbur seemed to like him, at least), and having someone’s brains blown out before your very eyes is enough to make anyone shaky for a few minutes. Especially when you might be next.

Enough waiting around, Techno had to get out of here in case someone came back for whatever reason.

Striding quickly across the room, Techno readied Jared’s gun once more as he pushed open the door to the stairs and ran down it, skipping steps as he went.

\---

Techno pushed the door to the thirty-first-floor open, chewing on his nails anxiously. It was a habit he’d been trying to break lately with little luck- somehow, he found himself in incredibly stress-inducing situations almost monthly.

 _Maybe I should have chosen a different job,_ he thought wryly. _Not that it would help anythin’ in this situation. Maybe Wilbur should have chosen a different job._

“C’mon, Niki,” Techno murmured. “Tell me you heard the shots and called the police...”

\---

Niki had not. She was listening to music while drawing a picture of a vase of flowers lightly on a pad of paper she’d dug up from somewhere, and was completely oblivious to the peril of the man far above her, pacing between a circular saw and two sheets of drywall.

\---

Meanwhile, on the roof, Sapnap and five or six others were climbing between pipes and wires, tossing each other tools and equipment skillfully and shouting words that were mostly indistinguishable over the sound of the large fans connected to the ventilation system.

One of the men was hunched over a small grey box, fussing and prying at the wires poking out of it. Without warning, he let out a shout, and the others who had been arranging wires out of sight fell silent and ceased all movement. After a couple of seconds of bated breath and the whir of fans, a red light blinked on and a cheer went up.

\---

“So, George,” Dream said, tapping his chin lightly and staring at the vault door. “How long will it take you to crack this?”

“Thirty minutes max for the code. Two, maybe two and half hours for the first six locks. But, Dream-” the shorter pushed his goggles down over his eyes and began typing furiously away at the computer wired up to the vault door. “-you do know that the seventh lock is out of my hands.”

“The seventh lock?”

George nodded. “The electromagnetic seal. The circuits cannot be cut locally.”

There was silence for several seconds. Then, “Don’t worry. George. This has all been planned for. Just get rid of the first six...I’ll handle the last one.”

George saluted him. “You got it, bossman.”

\---

“Antfrost, you called 911 and gave them the guard name and building code to call off the fire department, right?”

“Affirmative. Though I do wonder how they got called in the first place.”

“Hm. It’d be worth checking out. Bad, could you come over here?”

\---

Techno’s head jerked up. He could hear sirens- pretty far away, but still. Were people on the way to help them? It was possible that in the chaos upstairs, some office worker or executive at the party had had the sense to run for a fire alarm as soon as the shooting started. Had there been sprinklers or any other sign like that? Techno hadn’t stuck around to find out.

Rushing over to the windows, he pressed his nose almost against the glass- there in the distance- fire trucks!

“Come on, come on, hurry up,” Techno mumbled. “Bruhhh...”

The trucks inched closer by the second. His grip tightened instinctively on the gun- now they were only a few blocks away, he could almost read the writing on their sides when suddenly, they started to turn around.

Techno stared after the trucks, his hope fading as the wail of the sirens shut off. “I have to do everything myself, huh. Typical.”

\---

Badboyhalo adjusted his grip on the machine gun as he stepped into the elevator. Sapnap had apparently heard something suspicious while getting rid of that important guy- Manifold- and that, paired with Antfrost’s comment about the fire alarm, had caused him to ask Bad to investigate.

_“Check the thirty-first floor, it’s under construction- the best place to hide, probably,”_

Although there hadn’t been anyone in the immediate vicinity when Sapnap heard the sound, there was still a possibility. After all, even if it was Christmas and (like Dream insisted) all the guards had gone home, it could never hurt to double-check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha disappearing for a few weeks? couldn't be me
> 
> also uh i kind of underestimated how many terrorists there actually are, i wrote in 6 but there's more like 12 so. just pretend they came in later


End file.
